


Meet the New Boss

by Lavanya_Six



Category: Worm - Wildbow
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Complete, Crossover, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 14:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3653907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavanya_Six/pseuds/Lavanya_Six
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Listen, I've got to go. Yeah, totally a power play. No, no bee beard. I'm disappointed too, Mr. President." </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet the New Boss

_  
The bugs gave me a sense of the route I needed to take, my destination. There were offices in the back corner, but I had a sense of where I was going. I’d been here before, when Piggot had been director._

_I saw the labels on the door. Commissioner. Deputy Director. Director._

_I opened the last door._

_Director Tagg._

Except not.

Wearing an expensive power suit, a dark-haired man leaned casually against the Director's desk. His general thickness spoke more of middle age than obesity, unlike Piggot. The man didn't acknowledge my entrance even as a swarm of bees streamed past me to cover the walls and furniture. Instead, this stranger carried on a debate about setting up a tee-time. 

"Where's Tagg?" I demanded.

The man covered his phone with a hand. "Tagg's dead. Apparently he and the missus were, ah, celebrating the public implosion of your life. Things got a little too enthusiastic for his heart."

I had come in with a dozen different angry demands of Tagg, and to have my revenge taken away like that was... demoralizing. 

He uncovered his phone. "Listen, I've got to go. Yeah, totally a power play. No, no bee beard. I'm disappointed too, Mr. President." 

"Who _are_ you?"

"Jack Donaghy, Brockton Bay's latest and definitely greatest PRT Director."

I looked him over. Donaghy didn't have the air of a Piggot or Alexandria to him, and the files I'd studied on the other Directors all spoke of long tenures in the military or politics. Donaghy, while he managed to fill his half of the office with his force of presence, didn't scan with either of those. 

Expensive suit. Pricer gold watch. Good hair. 

Wait.

"They put a businessman in charge of the PRT?" 

"With the portal in play, Washington felt it was time for a serious operator. More importantly, so did Wall Street. No more PRT comrades marching in goose-step while they sipped Costa-Brown's kool-aid."

"I'm not really in the mood to play games."

"Who's playing?" He too up a perch on the edge of his desk, and clasped his hands over one knee. "We both want the same thing for this city, Hebert. To make it a safe place where job creators can have their children chauffeured to private school. So I'll make this as plain as I can for someone who thinks bees are the acumen of subtlety. We have experienced personnel and Uncle Sam footing our overhead. You've got the public on your side, and you took the Protectorate's Top Ten Most Wanted as a to-do list. Those are strengths I'm keen for the PRT to synergize with."

"Wait," I said, after taking a moment to parse that, "so you want to privatize—" 

Donaghy bolted to his feet. "Ssssh!"

"But—"

He put the framed photo of Ronald Reagan face down on his desk, then made the sign of the cross. 

"To be honest, Hebert, I prefer to think of what I'm proposing as a merger between our organizations. The thought of the government p-p-pah—" he shuddered "—a one of the few growth industries in Brockton Bay is abhorrent. Frankly, I think we should be rewarding young entrepreneurs who step up and show America how the private sector gets things done." 

"...You're telling me that PRT is ready to work alongside villains." I didn't buy it.

"You keep think of yourselves as villains when you should realize you're now something far more important, Hebert. You're _rich_. How much is your net worth right now? Thirteen? Thirteen-five?"

"Dunno. Fifteen or twenty million."

"If I was a teenager and into flat-chested girls who shopped at Goodwill..." Donaghy sighed wistfully. "But however charming it is that you think that's enough money to not be worth counting accurately, your start-up has only been in business for three months. Most businesses fail in first five years. Where do you see yourself in five years, Hebert?"

"Alive, hopefully. The world's ending in two."

"And that's enough for you? Just being alive?" 

I shrugged. "Beats the alternative."

"I think Nixon said the same thing to Frost, right before he tearfully confessed how sorry he was for wiretapping the Watergate hotel."

"Let's pretend you're not full of bullshit," I allowed, because I still had bees on hand. "How's this even supposed to work? The Undersiders become parolee Wards?"

Donaghy laughed.

"They didn't tell me you were funny, too," he said. "Parole is for poor people, Hebert. I was thinking Presidential pardons."

I was dumbfounded. "You can pull those?"

"It's why God and the United States government invented campaign contributions. AP got the press release announcing them right before you came here. Although since they don't cover postdated crimes, we'll just have to call tonight's attack a live-fire training exercise." 

I checked my phone, keeping one eye on the Director via my bugs. 

"Damn." He actually got us full pardons.

Donaghy started pacing around his desk, ignoring her to focus on the framed photos of microwaves adorning his walls. "As for you joining the Wards, Hebert, that won't be possible. I'm afraid your personal brand is too tied to the Undersiders. It'd be the most awkward merger since AOL-Time-Warner. Although I am thinking of trading Vista for Imp if you're game. The Wards get a much-needed twofer, and you expand your team's appeal to the key tween demographic."

Numb, I only managed to say, "I'll need to talk with my team about that."

"Take your time. Tell them your subsidiary will operate as a legitimate 'edgy' vigilantes who've turned a new leaf thanks to pardons for services rendered, while the PRT plays good cop. We integrate our services to present a united front to Brockton Bay, protect each other's interests. The government keeps a powerless facade erected to fool the public in believing they still have a say in how things are run. You wonderful folks keep on doing what you've been doing and, as with any successful corporation, the government provides you enough loopholes that you'll never have to pay taxes on your profits. For me, as a patriotic American businessman, that's a win-win."

I stared at Donaghy. He seemed sincere, but that meant nothing. I'd met too many good liars and conmen in the past few months. "What's the catch?"

"I like to think of myself as a winner, Hebert. I like to surround myself with winners. I see potential in you. Let me be the Michelle Pfeiffer to your angry black kid who learns that poetry is just another way to rap. Let me be your mentor."

"I don't need a mentor. I made fifteen million in three months, remember?"

"You also have honey in your hair."

"What? No, I d— _son of a bitch_!!"

"Just think about it, Hebert."


End file.
